Universal Darkness
by Paper Dork
Summary: When Harry finds himself stuck in a universe where his parents are alive, the Dark Lord never fell, and his counterpart is Voldemort's most trusted ally, it can only mean trouble. Dark!Harry AU
1. Chapter 1: Dilemma in Hogsmeade

Universal Darkness

Chapter 1: Dilemma in Hogsmeade

By Paper Dork

Disclaimer: In no way, shape or form does Harry Potter, and its numerous characters belong to me. They will always belong to the talented JK Rowling.

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There comes a time in a young man's life where the weight of the world, and all its numerous responsibilities become just a little too much to bare. Harry Potter, the bloody Boy-Who-Lived felt it was his time to throw a fit about the complete and utter lack of fairness that the world brought him.

It wasn't so much that he hated his Fifth Year at Hogwarts: School of Witchcraft, and Wizardry. He was having a small bit of fun, despite the fact that Snape was being even more of an insufferable git as before, and he was also barred from playing Quidditch for the rest of the year. He could even tolerate the fact that Cho Chang burst into tears, and blubbered like a ninny whenever he was around. Hell, he could even take the fact that over half the school, half of the entire wizard community, thought he was insane; a raving, psychopathic lunatic.

All his misery, the source of his need to throw a temper tantrum as if he was five years old, stemmed from one toad like woman. Umbridge.

Dolores Umbridge, High Inquisitor of Hogwarts, and currently the worst Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher in history. A Voldemort infected Quirrel was loads better than the pudgy, frog faced Umbridge. Harry would proclaim without a doubt that he loathed the woman with a burning passion.

"That wretched woman," Harry scowled, glaring at the cover to his four poster bed. Idly, he traced the words 'I shall not tell lies' that was permanently branded into the back of his hand, recalling his most recent detention with the frog turned human. He'd barely gotten the sentence, "But Voldemort is back!" out before Umbridge had slammed her hamburger sized fist down on her desk with a crack, and calmly stated that he would be joining her that night for yet another detention.

Harry let out a colorful curse, and thumped his clenched hands on top of his comforter. Why was everyone so blind to the truth? Had he not come back clutching the cold, lifeless body of Cedric Diggory after the last task?

And for Fudge to go as far as to believe Dumbledore, a wizard without a mean bone in his body, wanted nothing more than to dethrone him from his precious position as the Minister of Magic? Voldemort must have cast a stupidity spell over the whole of Britain because no other excuse could explain everyone's blatant ignorance.

Harry rolled onto his stomach, and let out an exasperated sigh into his pillow case. The whole situation was giving him a pounding headache; a headache that began a week ago, and had grown in volume every day. He placed the blame for this solely on Umbridge's gruesome shoulders.

Sinking into the soothing embrace of his mattress, Harry willed his headache away from the night, and slipped into a dreamless sleep.

-----

"If you can keep your mouth shut the entire class, Harry, I'll buy you all the Butter beer you want next Hogsmeade trip," Ronald Weasley whispered from his seat next to Harry, his lips pressed into a thin line of worry. "I don't think our House can take losing anymore points."

Harry snorted, and flipped his book open to the appropriate page as the Devil herself waddled into the room, and caught the attention of everyone in the class with her classical, "_Hem, hem_."

Umbridge daintily plopped down in her chair, and tented her fingers on the desk. "Open your books to Chapter Five, and read it for the duration of the class. If you finish early remain seated, and quiet. Begin now."

Books snapped open, and covers slapped against the desk tops as students groaned, and loomed over their books. Hermione flipped through the pages in her book, having already finished the book months ago. Ron gazed at his book passively, lips moving silently as he eye's skimmed over the pages with a soft of detached interest. Harry doubted he was even reading as five minutes later, he was on the same page.

Harry slouched back, and folded his arms across his chest. He may have to take the class, but he refused to participate in any shape or form. His headache returned tenfold as he found himself glaring holes into Umbridge's expanse of a forehead. _If only she'd fall ill enough to leave, or better yet, drop dead. As soon as she's gone, things will be right again._

As if she could sense his vicious thoughts, Umbridge turned her critical gaze to him. Her beady little eyes narrowed into indistinguishable slits, and her lips curled into a sneer. "You must be quite the fast reader, Mister Potter. Finished with Chapter Five already, are you?"

Harry bristled, and curled his fingers against the smooth wood desk. She was baiting him with her lips pulled into a sickly sweet smile as the rest of the class raised their heads to watch the action unfold; she wanted him to give her another excuse to punish him. _Filthy old hag!_

Ron elbowed him in the side, muttering something that vaguely sounded like, "Don't do anything stupid, Harry."

Umbridge had challenged him, and who was he to deny her a fight? "Book work won't stand up against Voldemort once he decides to attack," he responded, mirroring Umbridge's smile. "Unless knocking him over the head with a book can kill him, that is." Ron groaned in defeat beside him, and buried a hand in his hair.

Umbridge pseudo smile fell off her face like a load of bricks, and was replaced by a furious scowl. "I warned you about the consequences of lying, Mister Potter. Twenty points from Gryffindor, and another week's detention to add onto last weeks."

Some of the Gryffindor's roared in protest while the remainder stayed in their seats. Harry rose, his palms flat along his desk. "You're leaving us blind when Voldemort could attack any second. Why are you so determined to deny the truth?" Harry shouted with a wince as his scar began to throb, adding to the increasing pain from his head.

She regarded him, studying him with contempt, and a vibrant trace of fear in her merciless eyes. She rested her chin on her tented fingers, and snorted in reply, "Because they're nothing but lies from an attention seeking student."

Like a taunt rubber band, Harry's rage snapped to the forefront of his mind. "How could—what is WRONG with you?" he sputtered, his jaw slack. "People are going to die!"

When Umbridge merely shook her head as if she was dealing with a toddler during a temper tantrum, he saw red. A fine tremor settled over his body, and he had to keep his teeth clenched to keep them from chattering. _She's as bad as the Death Eater. How could Dumbledore appoint such a person as a teacher?_

"Harry!" Hermione cried out in surprise, and jumped up from her seat. She rushed around the desk separating them, and grabbed him by the shoulders. Concern and fear was etched so deeply in her face it startled him. "Your scar, it's bleeding!"

The red from his vision faded away, and a strange calm settled over his body. It was only then that he felt the warm trickle of blood sliding down his forehead, and cheek. "Is it?" he mumbled before his conscious thoughts dimmed, and he fell back into welcoming darkness.

-----

"Harry!" Hermione shouted, and bolted from her chair the second she saw blood begin to seep from his scar. She clamped both hands onto his shoulders in a death grip, and pivoted him to face her. "Your scar, it's bleeding!"

His eyes glazed over, and an almost relieved smile crossed his pale lips. "Is it?" he whispered to her dreamily. His eyelids drooped shut as his body went slack, and he tumbled backwards. Hermione cried out, and reached to get a better grip on him, but her fingers passed through air.

She stumbled, barely catching her own feet beneath her as she struggled not to fall. Gasps of shock resounded through the room as everyone scrambled to sneak a peek at the space where Harry Potter's body should have been.

"Hermione, w-where'd Harry go?" Ron stammered, coming around to her right side.

She clenched, and unclenched her fingers, staring wide-eyed at the air where Harry's body vanished. "He just vanished… he disappeared."

-----

Harry never realized before how much it hurt to be awake when you hit the ground. Of all the times he'd fallen off his broom, he'd been unconscious when he hit the floor; minus the time when he tumbled head over heels off his broom with the snitch in his mouth.

With a hiss, he lifted his body up from the grass that stuck to his skin, and made every inch of his exposed flesh itch. _Bloody Hell, Harry. Will your life ever be normal?_ He growled in thought, gently settling back on his rump with whine as new pains were made known. His right shoulder ached, and his wrist on the same arm stung something fierce. _I must have landed on it. With all the luck I have, I'm surprised I didn't break it. _

His glasses were intact, a small miracle all on its own. The butt end of his wand dug painfully into his hip, and for once he was grateful that he had remembered to stick it into his pants pocket in stead of his school bag. It wouldn't have done him any good to be out in the middle of nowhere wandless.

With care, he retrieved his glasses from the grass and returned them to their rightful place on his nose. The world slid into focus, though there wasn't much to see. Illuminated in the dim starlight was a field of some sorts, the grass coming up to about his shoulder as he sat. About twenty feet in each direction trees sprang up from the ground, creating a U shaped perimeter with an open window at the end that lead out to towering mountains in the distance. _How in God's name did I get here? _Last he'd checked, he'd been getting yelled at by Umbridge in DADA.

He stood with minimal discomfort, the grass now up to his hip. _I bet that hag sent me here to teach me a 'lesson'. I wouldn't put it past her. _Hobbling a bit, Harry set off toward the mountains, hoping to find a road, or some sign of civilization. Umbridge couldn't have sent him to far he wagered. It was only a matter of time before he found someone. Hermione would have scolded him for such thinking, but he didn't have a lot of options, and he was never the one to be admired for his patience.

Soon the aches across his body subsided, and he quickened his pace as an all too familiar cobblestone street appeared over the crest of a small hill. _This is one of the roads leading into Hogsmeade, I know it. Guess that wicked old bat didn't send me very far after all. _Now with a spring in his step, Harry broke into an all out run as he raced toward the cozy wizarding town.

Torch lights blazed in the distance like individual beacons of hope, and they grew in brilliance as he slowed to a walk upon entering the village. The streets were mostly deserted, and the pubs were open while the less shady shops were closed. All he needed now was a fireplace, and some floo powder, and everything would be okay. He guessed he could even get back with enough time to finish his Potions essay, and get a good nights rest.

A door creaked open to his right, and the owner of Zonko's Joke Shop stepped out, tapping the doorknob with his wand to lock it after easing it shut. Harry breathed a sigh of relief, and approached the man. Timidly, he tapped him on the shoulder to grab his attention. "Excuse me, sire. Where's the closest fireplace connected to the Floo Network?"

The man pocketed his wand before turning. "There should be one in the…" The man's voice trailed off into a whimper as the smile on his face dropped to be replaced by a fearful frown. "H-Harry Potter?" he chocked out, his hand going right back to his wand.

Harry crinkled his brow, and cocked his head to the side. "Yes, I'm Harry Potter. Now where is the fireplace? I need to get back to Hogwarts."

The man stepped back, his face awash with fright. "P-Please, don't kill me!" he screamed before he dropped everything in his hands, and bolted away from the door, and down the street, wailing at the top of his lungs, "Harry Potter's here! The Death Eater's are attacking!"

Harry watched him go, his brow raised in bewilderment. "What was that about?" He cast a glance over his shoulder, half expecting to be greeted by the black robes, and white masks of the infamous Death Eater's of Voldemort. There was nothing except a closed candy store. He shook his head, and turned to follow in the direction the man fled. He'd obviously run that way to find the comfort of other wizards, and where there were others, there was a fireplace.

"_Stupefy!_"

Harry, on instinct and pure dumb luck, ducked, and rolled to the left, narrowly dodging the brilliant red streak that ripped through the air where he'd been standing moments before. "What the hell?" He sat up in a crouch, and swiveled his head around to identify his assailant.

Five wands were pointed in his direction, each being held in the white knuckle grip of an Auror. "Harry Potter," the closest one boomed, his voice dripped with disgust, and loathing. "You are here by under arrest for the murder of countless muggles, wizards, and witches along with many other felons as a Death Eater of Lord Voldemort. Resistance if futile."

Harry gulped, and shuddered beneath the man's withering gaze. _Well Harry, I don't think we're in Kansas anymore._

------

End Chapter One.

Okay, I haven't written fan fiction for a long, long time. Sorry if this totally blows Buckbeak's balls or something like that. Oh yeah, and I'm in desperate need of a beta reader for this fic. Anyone interested in lending a hand?


	2. Chapter 2: Conjuring Up The Problem

**Chapter Two: Conjuring Up the Problem**

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

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If someone had told Harry a week ago that he would someday have an Auror's wand pointed at his face, he would have laughed and called them barmy. Now though, he found himself in quite the dilemma. The five Auror's remained unwavering in their convictions with their faces etched in deep seeded loathing, and their wands practically in his neck. Granted, it was bad they had their wands pointed at him, the Bloody-Boy-Who-Lived-To-Regret-It, but he'd been in worse situations.

"Stand up, Potter and don't even think of running," the leader, or who Harry assumed was, seethed. "Give me an excuse to hex you, and I'll use it."

_Death Eater's in disguise? No, they wouldn't have hesitated to hex me. _Warily, he rose to his feet with his eyes trained on the Auror's wands. "I think you guys have the wrong person," he grumped with a slight tremor in his voice. _It might be Imperius. _Of all the conclusions abound in his mind it was the only one that seemed to stick.

The Auror's eased up, and relaxed their taunt shoulders. "You think you're funny, boy?" one of them simpered from the back, the voice distinctly female with a slight rasp to it. Something must have damaged her throat.

Harry didn't like the way this was going in the slightest. "No, I don't. I just want to get back to Hogwarts. You see, Umbridge hexed me and-"

A bark of laughter erupted from the leader, his shoulders shaking like freshly made jelly. "You think you're going to Hogwarts? After you trial, it's straight to Azkaban for you." The man jerked his wand up, and aimed it straight for the center of Harry's throat. "Stu-"

Faster than the bang of a gun shot, Harry whipped his wand out of his pocket and shouted, "Lumos maxima!" before the poor Auror knew what was going on. Light erupted from the end of his wand, and blanketed the street in a bright glow. The Auror's cried out, and flung their arms up to guard their already exposed eyes. He known the light from his wand would blind them, but not for how long and to what extent. Spinning on his heel, Harry booked it down the street muttering, "Nox," under his breath as he ran to extinguish the light.

Buildings blurred as his long, sinewy legs put more and more distance between him and the Auror's. He only hoped their temporary lack of vision kept them as far away as possible.

His hopes were short lived as a familiar streak of red magic whizzed past his head, and harmlessly struck the side of a brick wall leaving a plate sized dent. _Shit! It didn't last long at all!_ Angry shrieks, and bellows nipped at his heels and he dared a glance over his shoulder. They weren't more than ten feet behind him, and screaming for his blood like dogs frothing at the mouth.

Harry spun into a narrow alleyway, and vaulted over heaps of boxes that were strewn about. Behind him, he heard one of the Auror's attempt the same youthful feat, only to clip one of the boxes with his foot, and go face first into the ground. The temptation to cackle manically was almost too strong to defy. _Well, I certainly don't wish to exacerbate things. _

Just as he reached the end of the alley he turned to face his would-be attacker's, wand raised. The leader, whom he easily recognized with his towering bulk and furious eyes, thundered toward him like a rampaging bull. His wand was up above his head, a spell already accumulating at its tip.

"Accio wand!" Harry shouted, and watched in amusement as the Auror's wand zipped out of his grip, and slapped into Harry's open hand. The man skidded to a stop as his fingers closed around the air where his wand should have been. Curiously, he only stood still for a second before focusing his attention back on him with his lips pulled back in a snarl. He resumed his charge with an arm outstretched in hopes to grab the boy before another spell was cast.

Harry smirked, raised his wand and bellowed, "Expelliarmus!" The spell, though simple, hit the man square in his board chest, lifted him up off his feet and sent him sailing backwards. Muffled cries of alarm echoed through the alley as his body connected with those of his comrades, and sent them all to the dirt.

Considering their level of skill in the wizarding world, Harry was delightfully surprised to find that he had bested the Auror's so easily. Maybe they were green, fresh out of the Ministry of Magic's training program? Whatever the case, they'd made a grave mistake. The only person he recalled killing was Professor Quirrel, and it had been an accident at best. What had given them the idea that he was some sort of criminal?

With one last glance at the pile of moaning Auror's, Harry fled from the alleyway and quickly made his way to the road leading to Hogwarts Castle. Much to his relief, the road to the school was vacant aside from occasional nocturnal beasts. The idea of having to run from more befuddled rookie Auror's wasn't a pleasant thought in the slightest.

Like a holy edifice, the towers of Hogwarts peeked above the tops of the Forbidden Forest. A relieved smile broke across his face with little resistance as he urged his tired legs to speed up. This was another odd adventure to add to the books, and one he would be glad to put behind him.

He'd barely passed the threshold with a foot on the grounds when an audible pop greeted his ears and Dumbledore, in all his purple robed glory, appeared before him. "Professor Dumbledore!" he exclaimed, and rushed to meet him. "Am I ever glad to-"

Something in Dumbledore's eyes froze him down to the core, and faltered his steps. The sparkle that he'd grown so accustomed to seeing, and the warmth associated with everything that was Dumbledore was gone. In stead, his usual merry gaze was hard, unsympathetic and filled with an emotion that Harry had never seen directed at him.

Betrayal. A betrayal so deep that it shook his very foundations, and shone like a death sentence from Dumbledore's very countenance. Pain, pity and a faint hint of anger swirled about Dumbledore's eyes like some evil concoction.

Harry stumbled back as if scalded by his gaze. Confusion leaked from every crevasse of his mind, thick like years old paint. "P-Professor?" he stammered, hoping to all the entity's of the world that the old wizards grim frown would break out into a smile, and ease his building dread.

"What are you doing here, Harry?" Dumbledore whispered though his voice sounded like a thundering squall in his ears. "What do you hope to gain? Wasn't Diagon Alley enough?"

In the distance, lightening stuck and a strong gale tore though the valley of Hogwarts. The calm, serene sky of an hour ago raged with thick black clouds, pregnant with water. In unison, they burst at the seams and rain poured to the ground.

Harry was soaked to the bone in an instant while Dumbledore seemed untouched as the rain splattered against, and slid off a protective barrier encasing his ancient body. "W-What are you talking about?" Harry shouted. "I haven't done anything. Why is eve-"

Dumbledore lifted his hand sharply, and silenced him on the spot. "No more lies. I have been lenient, hopeful that you would return to the Light on your own, Harry but I can see now that it was a grave mistake." A wand appeared out of his sleeve, dark against the pale skin of his palm.

Harry started and fled backwards, his sneakers slipping across the wet grass. "Wa-Wait, Professor, I don't' know what you're-"

"Stupefy!"

----

Despite the numerous occasions her life had been put into danger, Hermione couldn't recall a time where she'd actually had the time to look at the interior of Dumbledore's office. It was a peculiar room at best, with odd trinkets strewn about, bobbles floating in the air and hundreds of Headmaster and Headmistress paintings lining the walls. She spied the Sorting Hat nestled snuggly in a nook above a bookcase. Fawkes the Phoenix was perched in his usual spot with his head tucked beneath his left wing, and in the center of the organized mess sat Dumbledore behind his desk, the ever present twinkle vibrant in his eyes.

"Now Miss Granger, please explain to me what happened to Mister Potter. Be careful to leave out no details, no matter how insignificant they may seem," he instructed with a slight bow of his head.

She fidgeted in her seat, and fiddled with the hem of her skirt. "Well, we were in the middle of Defense Against the Dark Arts when Harry and Professor Umbridge got into a bit of a tiff. Harry was yelling at her when his scar started to bleed."

An eyebrow arched above Dumbledore's hairline. "Bleed you say? How very interesting. Please continue."

She inclined her head before softly mumbling, "I ran to him, and he got the most peaceful look on his face. I told him about the scar, but he acted as if it was the most normal thing in the world." Her lips paled, and thinned as the color drained from her face. "Then, he fell back and vanished into thin air, like he was smoke or something."

A soft hum wafted past the old wizards parted lips in contemplation. "While his disappearance is rather odd, I must say that Mister Potter is well and accounted for."

Her forehead crinkled as her brows knotted together. "How is that possible? I saw him disappear."

All she received in reply was a curt nod, and a brisk response. "He was found by the lake, and is now being looked after by Madam Pomfrey. You can go visit him if you'd like."

Just as Dumbledore finished his sentence, a resounding crack sang through the school, followed by a rumbled that shook the walls and rattled the windows. "Now I wonder what that was," Dumbledore mused as he rose from his seat with a swish from his velvet robes. He quickly left the room, Hermione hot on his heels as he broke a path through the gathering students in the hallway. Whispers echoed though the halls, punctuated by an occasional scream. The herd of students lead all the way to the Hospital Wing where a small wisp of smoke snaked its way out from under the double doors.

With a flourish, Dumbledore cast the doors open, shouting for the students to stay behind him at the same time. Hermione sneaked a peak through the doors around his arm, and let out a moan of despair.

The Hospital Wing was in ruins. Small fires were pot-marked throughout the room, filling it with thick, black smoke. A brilliant light shone through it from a dragon sized hole in the far wall. Charred rubble littered the floor haphazardly. In the center of it all, Madam Pomfrey laid sprawled on the ground where a rock the size of a giant's fist pinned her leg. "A-Albus!" she cried out in alarm as Dumbledore swooped down upon her. A quick spell sent the rubble rolling off her trapped limb, and another healed the deep gash across her brow, and leg.

Professor McGonagall strode into the room with Severus Snape at her heels. "What happened?" she questioned with a grim face. "It sounding like a bomb went off inside the castle."

With great help from the Headmaster, Pomfrey got to her feet; her knee's weakly knocked together. "W-Well, I was looking after Mister Potter and-"

"Potter!" Snape hissed with his lips pulled back in a sneer. "Why am I not surprised he's involved."

"Severus," Dumbledore said with an affirmative tone. "Let Madam Pomfrey finish." All he received in return was a scoff from the Potions Master. "Continue, Madam Pomfrey."

Pomfrey cleared her throat, and settled onto an overturned mattress Dumbledore had taken her to. "As I was saying, I was attending to Mister Potter. It looked like he was having a bit of a fit, so I went to check on him when he suddenly woke up. He looked confused for awhile, but when he saw me he started screaming and cursing. He jumped up from his bed, and blasted a hole in the wall with his wand." Nervously, she wrung her fingers together. "It was such a powerful, dark spell. I've never seen one like it."

Dumbledore bowed his head, and thanked her before ushering everyone out of the remains of the Hospital Wing. "This is most disturbing news, I'm afraid. It also confirms my suspicions."

Hermione frowned, and moved to stand before him. "Professor?"

The smile returned to his face, though it was strained. He placed a wrinkled hand atop her head, and signed with what sounded like deep regret. "When I found Mister Potter, I was surprised to find him without a scar on his forehead. In stead, he bore the symbol of Salazar Slytherin upon his brow and the Dark Mark of Voldemort's elite upon his right arm"

Minerva clapped a hand over her mouth to muffle her gasp of surprise while Snape simply lifted a brow in vague amusement. "How is that possible?" We haven't let Harry out of our sights since the beginning of the school year."

"I am well aware of that Minerva," he chuckled. "It looks as if we've had a little mix up with a… alternate reality."

---

Something slick and cold plopped down on his cheek, blazing a trail down to his lips. Another droplet splattered against his skin, followed by another, and another until Harry could no longer drift comfortably in the realm of unconsciousness. A groan passed his parched lips as he slowly pushed his weary body up from the cold, wet stony floor he'd been napping on. "Bollocks," Harry hissed as a throbbing pain reverberated through his head. As he tried to make sense of his muddled thoughts, he leaned back to examine the room.

It was a prison cell, plain and true. It remained him of one of the cells he'd seen in an old muggle movie about King Arthur and his Knights. From the stone walls, floor and ceiling, the door made entirely of steel bars and the periodic leak of water from the cracks in the stone above his head, it was a cell._ What in God's name happened? Last I remember… Dumbledore! _His head snapped up with a start as his memories rushed back to him tenfold. _He hexed me. That bloody old bat hexed me. _He remembered the hurt, and betrayal so vivid on the wizards face and the red flash of light as Dumbledore's spell hit him. Why had Dumbledore attacked him in the first place? Had everyone and their mother gone completely insane?

"Ah, it's good to see you awake," a voice chuckled from beyond the doorway of his cell.

Harry snorted, and fixed his attention on the man sitting behind the bars on a rickety old chair. "I wouldn't have been out in the first place if it wasn't' for you, Professor."

Dumbledore chuckled again, and clasped his hands on his crossed knee. "You gave me quite the shock back there, Mister Potter. I half expected Tom to be right behind you."

Harry frowned, and moved closer to the bars. "Why did you attack me? Why did the Auror's try to capture me?" he questioned with what he hoped was a pleading expression. "I mean, one moment I'm yelling at Umbridge in DADA class, and the next thing I know, I'm running through Hogsmeade with a horde of angry Auror's on my tail."

The man who'd put him in such a state remained silent for a moment, his brows knitted together in thought. "Lying will do you no good now, Harry. Your trial begins tomorrow, and not even Tom himself will be able to rescue you from whatever they decide is your fate." That said, he stood from his chair and dragged it away from Harry's sight. "I was hoping to get you to plead guilty to everything you've done now so the jury would lessen your punishment, but it seems like a wasted endeavor. Goodbye, Mister Potter." Dumbledore bowed to him at the waist, something he'd never seen before and disappeared from his view.

Panic rose inside him as the older man's words settled in. "No… Dumbledore, wait!" Harry threw himself at the bars, and stretched a hand out to the man he considered his surrogate father. "Please, I don't know what you're talking about! I haven't done anything wrong! Please, don't leave me here!" Harry pleaded on the verge of tears.

Dumbledore didn't even falter a step. He opened the door leading out of the prison room, cast one look at Harry over his shoulder and disappeared beyond the doorway. It shut with a roar, and echoed through the prison.

"No, come back. Tell me what's going on, just don't leave me," Harry whispered to the still air. He received nothing but silence.

------

End Chapter Two

Cool beans, I finally finished this thing faster than I thought it would. To anyone reading this, I apologize that it took so long to get out. I promise to get Chapter Three out in less than a month.

**FYI**, I still don't have a beta-reader, so if there is a bunch of errors, I apologize beforehand.


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